


Heart Over Head

by myshipsaresunk



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 02:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myshipsaresunk/pseuds/myshipsaresunk
Summary: AU where the 100 stay on Earth alone. Bellamy and Clarke have finally made a treaty with the Grounders and established peace and order within the camp. Clarke doesn't feel like she can let go and relax - not until Bellamy helps her learn to think with her heart over her head, at least.





	Heart Over Head

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I just caught up on The 100 and am shipping Bellarke as hard as ever, so I wrote this one-shot romance. It's set in a AU where the 100 stayed on the ground and made a settlement there without ever contacting the Ark again. The setting isn't too important, though. Anyway, here's what a potential Season 1 Clarke and Bellamy confessing their feelings for another might have looked like. Enjoy!

Heart Over Head

“We finally did it,” Clarke says, taking a seat by the fire next to Bellamy. “Only took a month or two of in-fighting, making treaties with the natives, and cutting ourselves off from our parents.”

“I still can’t believe you two managed to work it out,” Raven says, shaking her head. “I didn’t believe in a higher power on the Ark, but now I think it could be possible.”

Finn wraps an arm around her and laughs. “Let’s get through the first winter before we get too carried away,” he says.

Clarke watches them on the other side of the fire, a bit wistful. She and Finn had just started something when Raven had returned - and Finn had gone right back to her. She can’t blame him, of course, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt.

“Hey guys!”

Monty climbs over a log and hands out tin cups of a foul smelling liquid around. Clarke takes a whiff and then sets it on the ground. “Beer!”

Octavia spits it out after one sip. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s not beer,” she complains.

Jasper shrugs. “It’s alcohol, so who cares?”

In the middle of the settlement someone turns on music, blasting it loudly. The steady bass beat fills the air. Octavia cheers and takes another swig of her drink - wincing - and then joins the party that’s forming in the distance. Monty and Jasper are on her heels.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Raven asks Finn, laying her hand on his knee. He smiles in return.

“See you in the morning!” he calls out as they stand up and walk away, hand in hand.

Soon it’s just Bellamy and Clarke sitting by the fire. All the others are in the middle of the settlement, dancing and drinking and having fun. Clarke watches them for a few minutes.

“You’re not going to join the party?” Bellamy asks. She looks over at him and raises an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who was a complete playboy for the first week,” she replies.

He shrugs. “On the Ark, I was a janitor. Here, I became a leader. Can’t blame me for taking advantage of that a bit.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, but she understands. Watching the others now, she understands what life was like for most people on the Ark. She was fortunate enough to have important, influential parents. Few others were.

“It was horrible, what they did to us,” she says quietly. “Sending us down here alone when they knew there was a good chance of us dying from just one breath. Sending us down here alone with no guidance.”

Bellamy stares at his hands, folded in his lap. “Sometimes I regretted destroying the communications to the Ark,” he says. Then he looks up at her. “But right now, I realize that, even though I made it for the wrong reasons, it was a good decision.”

Clarke can’t help but agree. Of course, she was pissed at him at the time and it took her a while to forgive him. But when he eventually proved himself as a worthy leader and then as a friend, it was easy to forgive him.

“If we hadn’t been sent down here, we’d still be locked up in prisons. Well, not you, but the rest of us.” 

“They would have caught me eventually. Nothing stays secret forever.”

Clarke looks at the fire. “I miss my mom,” she admits. “But it’s better that the adults aren’t here. We would have never made those treaties with the Grounders with the adults here.”

“They would have set up a government just like back on the Ark. It would be hell.” Bellamy smiles wryly. “We’re happy here. Much happier than on the Ark. And it’s all because of you.”

Clarke looks up, surprised. “It wasn’t all me,” she protests.

“You were the one who made me realize how selfish I was being. You were the one who held everyone together. You took threats seriously. You made the treaty with the Grounders. And you helped organize all of this.” Bellamy motions to the settlement. “You’re the reason we’re all still alive.”

She can’t help a small smile from appearing on her face. Even after making amends with Bellamy, compliments are still rare. “But you’re the reason everyone’s having so much fun,” she says. “I’m too uptight.”

He nods seriously. “That’s true. Being responsible is important. But you don’t have to be anymore. You can relax.” He motions at her untouched beer. “Why not let loose? You’ve earned it.”

Clarke picks up the tin cup and swirls the murky liquid around, but she finds she has no desire to drink it. 

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I guess I feel like if I take even a small break, let my guard down for just a few minutes, something bad is going to happen.”

“Do you know who Atlas is?” 

“No. Never heard of him. Is he someone on the Ark?”

Bellamy lets out a short laugh. “No. He’s a character from Greek mythology. My mother used to tell Octavia and I stories, and he was in one of them. According to legend, he was cursed to hold the weight of the world on his back.” He meets her eyes. “You’re like Atlas.”

“I certainly feel like it,” Clarke mumbles. She stares back at the fire. It’s not that she doesn’t want to join in on the celebrations with the others. It’s not that she wants to be the first one awake in the mornings and the last one asleep. It’s not that she wants to have to speak for everyone - it’s just that she somehow feels responsible for all these kids.

“But you’re not cursed,” Bellamy says. “We needed you in the beginning. And we still need you, but not as much. There are others who have stepped in now. Let them share the weight. Let me share the weight.”

She bites her lip and looks over at him. He seems to sincere right now. She had thought she was doing a good job of hiding her stress and exhaustion, but apparently not.

Or maybe Bellamy just knows her too well.

“What are you saying I should do?” she asks. “Take a day off?”

He smiles. “I don’t think you could do that. At least, not yet.” He motions to the crowd in the background. “Why don’t you drink that awful beer and then join the party?”

Clarke can’t help a laugh of disbelief from escaping her lips. “Dancing isn’t really my thing.”

“Doesn’t matter. The others appreciate what you’ve done, Clarke, but they also feel like you’re a bit condescending. They’ll always felt that way and you know it. If you start relaxing with them, they’ll respect you even more. A win-win situation.”

He’s not wrong. Ever since being called “princess” and instantly trying to take charge, Clarke knows she’s not the most popular person here. Bellamy also took charge, but he was one of them. Not a juvenile prisoner, but he partied in the early days, took off his wristband, and insulted the adults with all the rest of them. He’s always been the preferred leader of the 100.

“I’m the head,” she says. “You’re the heart.”

“But we don’t always have to follow those roles.” Bellamy stands and offers a hand. “Come. You’ve earned this, more than anyone else.”

Clarke hesitates. She feels like she’s trying to fight every cell in her body. What if she gets drunk and does something stupid? What if someone else gets drunk and does something stupid and she’s not sober enough to take care of it? What if she stays out too late and ends up sleeping late in the morning? There’s so much still do too to prepare camp for the winter months…

She lifts the cup to her lips, swallows it all in one drawl, and then grimaces. “Oh. That’s awful.”

Bellamy grins. “Not as bad as the first batch. Maybe it was good you didn’t drink back then.”

She takes his hand and he leads her to the party. She still has her reservations, and she’ll follow a few ground rules: no getting drunk (although with the alcohol tasting that bad, that won’t be an issue), no letting anything get out of hand, and she’ll only stay long enough to have a little fun and prove she’s not all stuck up.

She can already feel a little warmer on the inside, enough to take a deep breath and let go a little. She and Bellamy reach the edge of the party goers. A loud techno song is playing, the beat vibrating through the ground and up through her body. Everyone is jumping up and down, their hands thrown up in the air. Clarke smiles nervously. Bellamy catches her eye and smirks.

“I don’t think this is really my song!” she yells over the speakers.

“Then what is?” he responds.

The song ends before Clarke has to answer. The next song is a more folksy, pop-country mashup.

“This is better,” she says, and not just because she doesn’t have to yell over the techno anymore.

She starts swaying back and forth a little with the beat. Bellamy looks at her with an amused expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks a few seconds later.

“Dancing, duh.”

“That’s not dancing.” He extends his hand. She looks at it skeptically, not believing that Bellamy of all people knows how to really dance. “My mom taught me when I was young. I’m not good, but it’s better than whatever you were just doing.”

Clarke finally puts her hand in his, more just to wipe that annoying expression off his face than anything. 

“Alright, so you actually gotta move your feet,” Bellamy instructs. He shows her a simple step pattern. “This can go with almost any song - any song that actually is a song.”

“This isn’t so bad,” Clarke admits. They take three steps forward, one back. 1-2-3-4, with the beat of the song. And repeat. One of her hands is on his shoulder. The other is held in his hand, which is surprisingly warm. His other arm is around her waist.

“And then you go can throw in spins when you feel like it.” He releases her waists and brings their held hands up high. She spins out and then back in again.

“Good. But you gotta keep your feet stepping in time to the music or we’ll get messed up.”

By the time the song reaches the bridge and last chorus, Clarke has it down. She finds it much more fun than the just swaying to the music. As Bellamy spins her back in for the last time, she finds herself laughing. A real, genuine laugh.

He gives her a weird look. “What is it?”

She shakes her head, unable to wipe the dumb smile off her face or the warmth in her chest that she’s not sure is from the alcohol or simply being happy and carefree for once.

“Two months ago, who would have thought that we’d be here, dancing together? We used to hate each other.”

Bellamy shrugs. “Things change. Maybe in two months we’ll hate each other again.”

“I don’t think so.”

Clarke means it. After all they’ve been through together, she can’t imagine anything that could ruin their relationship - and she can’t imagine anything that could drive them apart from each other.

Bellamy stares at her. She can’t read his expression, and it unnerves her a bit.

Another techno song starts playing, the blasting music causing Clarke to instinctively cover her ears with her hands. She’s just about to suggest they leave when Octavia grabs her arm and starts pulling her into the center of the dancers.

“Come on!” the younger girl shouts, her voice already a bit hoarse. 

Clarke shoots Bellamy a “help” look but he just shrugs as she’s dragged away. Clarke can even swear the corner of his lip edged up into a smile. Jerk.

Octavia brings Clarke to the very center and starts dancing with her, grabbing her arms and holding them up into the air. When Clarke finally gives in and starts dancing like the others, Octavia lets go and jumps back with a gleeful expression.

“Princess Clarke is getting down!” she yells. A cheer goes up from the others around them.

Clarke thinks its ridiculous, but the others are loving it, so she stays for a song or two (with techno music, she’s never sure when a song ends or when it just morphs into another rhythm). Finally she weaves her way out of the throng and back to the edge, where Bellamy is waiting.

“Have fun?”

“You could have rescued me,” she grumbles. “But it wasn’t too bad.”

“You’re building bonds with the others,” he points out. “And it’s something you should do more often.”

He’s right. And, honestly, it wasn’t too bad once she realized that no one cares how good or bad of a dancer she is. They just care that she’s acting like one of them, taking a part in the things they enjoy and humbling herself to their level. At the end of the day, they’re all just teens trying to survive in the world.

“Yeah, I should.” She nods. “Thank you, Bellamy. It was a good idea.”

The song ends and, surprisingly the next one isn’t techno - it’s a slower pop song with a piano intro. Clarke watches as the others pair off and start slow dancing. She finds it sweet, but also wonders how long until they’re going to have to start dealing with babies in the camp.

Then her eyes fall on a familiar couple: Raven and Finn. They’re staring at each other, seemingly lost in each other’s eyes. It’s like their in a world of their own.

It doesn’t hurt Clarke as much as she expects. In fact, she doesn’t hurt over Finn so much as the fact that she wishes she had someone who loved her so much. Leadership is a lonely pursuit. Finn and Wells were the only two guys who ever understood her, and one is in a happy relationship with someone else and the other is dead.

She finally tears her eyes off them and is surprised to see Bellamy still standing by her side.

“What, you didn’t find someone to dance with?” she asks, a slight teasing in her voice. “That wasn’t a problem in the first week.”

Bellamy doesn’t smile. He watches her seriously with that slightly unnerving, unreadable expression in his eyes.

“You don’t have anyone, either,” he finally says.

She turns her eyes back to the other dancers. “I guess we’re both on our own.” But after a second, she decides to screw it all to hell and she turns back to Bellamy. “So are we gonna dance or not?”

He smirks. “Whatever you say, princess.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and as he takes her hand, she realizes her heart is beating faster. It’s such a ridiculous feeling. She’s faced off armed Grounders, made the choice to alienate the 100 from all their families and friends on the Ark, watched people die - even killed people. Why should asking her friend to dance make her nervous?

The first couple seconds are awkward. Clarke has nowhere to look but straight into his eyes. Her hands are draped on his shoulders, and she can clearly feel the warmth of his hands around her waist. They’ve been through so much together, so it’s ridiculous that this feels too intimate.

Clarke and Bellamy have always been able to communicate with just looks. As leaders who sometimes have to make decisions on the spot, it’s necessary. Now, during this dance, when they have no choice but to look at each other, Clarke realizes that they’re doing the same thing - only on a much deeper, more personal level. This isn’t just a “yes” or “no” or “be careful” look; right now they’re speaking entire phrases, emotions.

Clarke hopes she’s not reading Bellamy wrong. And she wonders how he’s reading her - because she has no idea what exactly she’s feeling, and she’d have no idea what to say if she had to put it in words.

The song ends before their silent conversation ends. Even after the piano fades out and another obnoxious techno song come on, they don’t move - don’t even blink.

Finally Clarke clears her throat awkwardly and drops her hands from his shoulder. He doesn’t release her and she can’t take the intensity of his gaze so instead she plays with his jacket, giving her hands and eyes something to do.

“You’re, uh, zipper was caught,” she mutters in explanation.

“Clarke - “

She cuts him off, both scared of what he might say and how she might react. “I can’t hear my own thoughts,” she says, raising her voice over the music.

Bellamy finally releases her then, taking a step back. She hopes she’s not completely pushing him away. That’s not what she meant to do. She just doesn’t want to have this conversation - or at least what she thinks this conversation might be - here, with all these people and noise.

Her head throbs from the music and she feels uncomfortably warm and there’s someone dancing nearby who keeps bumping into her and she feels unnaturally light and she only drank one beer - right? She has half a mind to ask Monty what the hell was in that beer but she knows it’s not the beer, it’s something else, she knows what else, she’s not sure if she’s ready for what else -

Bellamy watches her with a guarded expression. “Are you okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah, yeah,” she lies. “I’m great.”

He reaches a hand over and she tries to bat it away but she feels really weak right now. He feels her forehead with his hand and winces.

“Clarke, you’re burning up. Let’s get some fresh air.”

He leads her away from the party to the outer wall of the settlement. From here, the music is only a faint background noise and the air is cooler and fresher. Clarke breathes it in deeply. She finds herself able to relax again. Not completely - Bellamy’s hand is still on her back from when he’d lead her here, and her heart rate is still a bit higher than normal, but at least her head is clear.

“Thanks. I think I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Maybe we should double check Monty’s beer.” Bellamy moves to be in front of her. “Are you feeling better?”

She nods. She wants to say something because now seems like the time, but she’s not sure what to say. How can she put feelings into words when she doesn’t even know exactly how she feels?

She decides to just say what she’s certain of. “Bellamy, I, uh…” Suddenly she loses the courage she’d scraped up. He watching her so closely. It’s too late to back out now. She clears her throat. “You were really annoying at first. You tried to undermine everything I did. I may have even hated you a little.”

He leans back a little. “Alright.”

She reaches out and grabs his arm. “Wait. I’m not finished. The reason you were so annoying was because you were a leader - you’ve always been one. People follow you. I was so frustrated because everyone wanted to follow you instead of me. But I was being difficult, too. I stubbornly held on to faith in our parents, in the adults on the Ark, even though they sent us down here to die. You were the one that made me realize that if humanity was to survive, it had to be us - and us alone. And once we were able to compromise and work together, we made a really good team. We make a really good team. There’s no one I’d rather lead with than you.”

Bellamy tilts his head to the side and back. “Yeah, I’ve always given you a hard time. But you’re a good leader, too, Clarke. You’re able to make the hard decisions. You’re willing to make sacrifices that I never could.”

She smiles a bit. “The head and the heart,” she repeats.

They take a seat on a set of old barrels and fall into a comfortable silence, vaguely listening to the music in the background but more to the insects around them chirping and looking up at the stars. Clarke leans her head against his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her. They sit for ages.

Clarke feels a little disappointed. Of course she’s enjoying this time with him, but she really thought he had been about to say something earlier. Something more. She’s worried that she she scared him off. She wants to know what he was going to say, even though deep down she knows.

It’s this moment, right here and right now, that she realizes that maybe her feelings aren’t as confusing as she previously thought. Her disappointment is so clear. She wanted him to say more, to admit something. She always thinks too much, worrying about survival and over analyzing her relationships with Wells and Finn. Maybe she just needs to take a page out of Bellamy’s book and listen to her heart for once.

And yet there’s just enough uncertainty in her that she can’t find the courage to say something.

“Do you ever think we made a mistake when we disabled all communications to the Ark?” she asks instead. 

“Do you ever think they think they made a mistake when they sent us down here to explore a radiated planet?” Bellamy replies. Then he sighs. “I don’t know, Clarke. It was a hard decision. But one of the only reasons we were able to make a treaty with the Grounders is because of how few of us there were and because of our ages.”

The Grounders were willing to have peace with them because they didn’t see the 100 as a threat. And, honestly, they aren’t - they’re just a hundred (well, fewer now) teenagers dropped on a barely habitable planet. If they had adults - and fully armed and technologically advanced adults at that - with them, war would have broken out. Clarke knows it. She knows the leadership on the Ark too well. She knows what humanity there has become.

And yet, she still feels responsible for the lives of everyone on the Ark. She knows how the Ark is slowly dying. She knows that by cutting off communications, they sentenced everyone to death.

But if they radioed the Ark and told the others it was safe to come down, they would be risking the peace they fought so hard for - and possibly be sentencing everyone from the Ark to death. 

And, although the adults promised to wipe their records clean if they found the Earth habitable, Clarke isn’t sure they would stick to that promise. After controlling everything so tightly for three generations, why would they suddenly relinquish that power?

“I hope they come down on their own,” Clark says. “Not here, though. I hope they realize what we did and bring the Ark down on the other side of Earth and set up a colony there.”

Bellamy angles his head to look at her. “You still feel guilty for leaving your mother.”

“I feel guilty for leaving them all.” Clarke takes a deep breath. “It’s what we had to do to survive. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

“You have new family now. The 100 is your family.” A pause. “I’m your family.”

“I know.”

They fall back into silence. Clarke tries not think too much. She breathes in the cool night air and tries to relax. This is much more her pace of letting go. She’d rather sit under the stars than jump up and down to loud music any day.

When Bellamy walks her back to her tent later that night, she still hasn’t found the courage to say anything. Her disappointment deepens with every step. As her tent comes into view, she fights the instinct to dig her feet into the ground and refuse to walk farther.

“Thank you,” she tells Bellamy when they’ve stopped in front of her tent. “It was nice to relax a little.”

“No one deserves it more than you.” Bellamy reaches out and pulls her head close, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Good night, Clarke.”

She watches his walk away. Her forehead tingles. She feels a tightness in her chest. Finally she can’t take it anymore.

“Bellamy - wait!” she calls out. He turns around, a guarded expression on his face.

“Yeah?”

She takes a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm the butterflies in her stomach. “Maybe you don’t have to go yet. If you don’t want,” she adds quickly.

He stands there for a minute. It seems to stretch for infinity. With each passing second, Clarke beats herself up more on the inside.

Dumb, she says. You’re so stupid. He doesn’t see you that way. Now it’s always going to be awkward.

She’s just about to make up an excuse for her words when silently walks back, never breaking eye contact with her. He only stops when he’s right in front of her. Clarke’s heart is pounding in her ears. There’s no way he can’t hear it. She’s also pretty sure her face is bright red, but luckily it’s dark out.

“Clarke,” he says, and he doesn’t have to say anymore. It’s all in the tone of his voice. Clarke leans into him, resting her face into the crook of his neck. His arms come up and hold her against him.

“The 100 are my people,” she whispers. “You’re the only one who’s my family.”

One of his hands come up and strokes the side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ear. Then he tilts her chin up so that she has no choice but to look him in the eyes. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something and then closes it again. She doesn’t have time to wonder about what he was going to say before he leans down and kisses her.

Clarke has made a lot of decisions in her life, many of which she’s unsure of - but she already knows she won’t regret this one. She also knows that every decision in her life has led to this moment, and she can live with that.

And, for once, she used her heart instead of her head.


End file.
